


jazzy judy no.1 | cohort blues

by thecursedtomb



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Crack, Gen, Other, cw: slam poetry, judith's secret hobby, poetry crimes, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:49:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27635018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecursedtomb/pseuds/thecursedtomb
Summary: Judith slips a pair of sunglasses over her eyes as she takes the stage and faces the audience. Camilla, leaning against the back wall, pulls an egg-shaker out of her pocket and plays along with the bassist’s tune. Very Smooth.Clearing her throat, Judith removes the mic from the stand and inhales dramatically. Slow and steady, she speaks--
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	jazzy judy no.1 | cohort blues

_ It’s close to midnight on the lush planet Gaeass-609, a Blood of Eden stronghold several lightyears beyond the realm of Dominicus. Rebel soldiers patrol the streets of the settlement, always vigilant, watching for Cohort attacks from the sky and listening for Imperial apologetics from open tavern windows.  _

_ Dissenters find a way, however, despite the odds.  _

_ Deep beneath the floorboards of a decrepit pub, a secret society of poets and misfits gathers to share free thought and uncensored art, away from the watchful eyes of Edenite moralists. It may not offer much, but the room has its charms. The chairs are mostly broken and the tables barely pass for seating; the dim light buzzes and flickers every twenty seconds; and the bar offers little more than the cheap swill they use to clean the walls.  _

_ Okay, maybe the room doesn’t offer any charms at all. _

_ So be it.  _

_ The wooden floor creaks, and the greasy patrons all turn their heads. In walks Judith Deuteros, former Captain of the Cohort, now disgraced-- an esteemed regular amongst their ranks. Any one of them would be shot just for being there, but Judith, in particular, would be double-shot. She wears a white turtleneck and a brilliant red scarf, and a matching beret sits atop her immaculate head of curls.  _

_ The crowd snaps and the sly-looking upright bassist plays a walking line to announce her entry. _

_ Trailing behind her is Camilla Hect, former cavalier of the Sixth, who isn’t an Imperial Loyalist by any stretch of the imagination, but also isn’t a filthy little snitch, either. They’d settled their differences long ago, and tonight, Camilla has agreed to keep time, for moral support.  _

_ Judith slips a pair of sunglasses over her eyes as she takes the stage and faces the audience. Camilla, leaning against the back wall, pulls an egg-shaker out of her pocket and plays along with the bassist’s tune. Very Smooth.  _

_ Clearing her throat, Judith removes the mic from the stand and inhales dramatically. Slow and steady, she speaks-- _

> Cohort, Cohort, in my Co-heart;
> 
> You and I--
> 
> Two planets, terraformed from the start.
> 
> Red work of art, 
> 
> I wear your colors on my sleeve--
> 
> Your mission, your message
> 
> In my heart, 
> 
> I  _ believe. _

_ (Already, a man in the front row is closing his eyes and sagely nodding along. Judith continues--) _

> Rebel among rebels,
> 
> I risk my life on this stage--
> 
> Do you rebels hear my rage
> 
> In the Emperor’s fine age??
> 
> Do you gaze up in the sky,
> 
> And feel Dominicus’ eye
> 
> Looking down from above?
> 
> Shining down on you with love?

_ (The nodding man gives an “Mm,” and the crowd follows with reverent susurration. She lowers her voice, just a tad; Camilla and the bass-man adjust their volume to match intensity.) _

> Lightyears, light-tears,
> 
> Billion miles away--
> 
> Canaan House, so in ruin,
> 
> In my memory you’ll stay.
> 
> Intact and tacked-in,
> 
> Like the pin in my grenade--
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> Life made you my lemon--
> 
> _My necromantic lemonade._

_ (An eruption of sniffles from the audience.  _

_ Judith raises her voice, flourishes her free hand as she goes on--) _

> Second House, my love, 
> 
> I’ve got the Cohort Blues;
> 
> No matter where I go, I lose!
> 
> Tell me, how could I choose,
> 
> A house, a home away from  _ you _ ?
> 
> Reject the old for the new??
> 
> No, no-- that, I couldn’t do; 
> 
> Life would never be the same--
> 
> They used to call me  _ Jazzy Judy _ \--
> 
> Now they don’t even know my name.

_ (The bartender rushes out from behind the bar to distribute tissues to the sobbing audience members. Strangers embrace each other, burying their faces in each other’s shoulders for comfort. For a moment, it even looks like Camilla is touched, but Judith remembers that it’s allergy season on Gaeass-609. No matter; she’s reached as many hearts as she’d hoped, already. Onward, she ventures to the final stanza, seals the deal--) _

> So, tell me, Blood of Eden--
> 
> What do you see in me?
> 
> Just a warm necro-body?
> 
> Just the fuel for your regime?
> 
> Do you see me as somebody?
> 
> As  _ anybody at all _ ?

(-- _ she pauses, laughs, looks away momentarily and lowers her voice to a whisper--) _

> Well--
> 
> With the Cohort in my Co-heart … 
> 
> I know that I’ll never fall. 

_ In the aftermath of the devastation, the dirty rebels drag themselves home, eyes raw from the tears and hearts ablaze with unbridled passion. Judith waits until the crowd has all gone, leaving only Camilla, who does nothing other than sneeze.  _

_ “How did I do?” Judith asks her, removing her sunglasses and wiping a single, militaristic tear from her cheek.  _

_ Camilla pockets the egg-shaker.  _

_ “Okay.” _


End file.
